I Love You Too, You Prat
by Ron Weasley2
Summary: (rating just for safety) Hermione finally realizes who the girl is behind Ron's every move. Surprisingly, it is NOT Parvati Patil.


A/N: Sorry, I'm just freakishly obsessed with R/Hr fluff. It's the only good kind out there, neh? This is set during seventh year. Not dealing with Voldemort, etc. :o)

Disclaimer: kind of tells you everything in the word itself, but needless to say, I don't own anything. Happy?

            Hermione Granger bit her lip as her eyes scanned the row of titles in the library. She'd left her copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ at home and she really wanted to check something for the rewritten version she was working on. It just wasn't fair, really, that it left out so much and yet was seen as the most reliable source on Hogwarts. The house-elves had been _glossed_ over as if they were nothing more than servants, there only to meet the needs of humans. It was disgusting.

            She sighed. It didn't seem to be there, although she should be glad that someone was actually reading it, because no one seemed to care all that much about it in the first place. Especially Ron.

            Ron. He was the source of so many…oddities in her life. She couldn't deny that he was one of the very best friends she'd ever had. But sometimes it felt like she couldn't take staying within that safe boundary of friendship and platonic feeling. Sometimes, when she looked at him, she felt…well…it was hard to describe. Hard to believe that even Hermione Granger couldn't describe what her feelings were, but that's what Ron did to her. Unless they were having a blazing row or she was helping him with schoolwork, she couldn't seem to find the right words to say anymore.

            It didn't help that in sixth year, he'd…well…_blossomed_ seemed to be the right word. Something had happened to him over the summer after fifth year, but all Hermione could fathom was that the Ron she'd left at King's Cross in June had been replaced with the Ron she met when she came to the Burrow that summer. He was…different, that was really all there was to it. He seemed more confident, he was lean rather than lanky and awkward, and the female population at Hogwarts seemed to take to him nicely.

            And that was the problem of it all.

            She wasn't sure if she could call it anything definite, because only some things brought on the feelings that made her dizzy and clearheaded at the same time. Things like when she hugged him and smelled that scent that was Ron: cinammony and…somehow minty, when he asked for help on a Potions essay and moved to sit closer to her so that their knees were practically touching under the table, when he smiled at her or really anyone, for that matter, and the glint in his eyes made her heart melt and her knees buckle.

            So when Ron began getting a lot more attention from other girls, Hermione tried to deny it, but it made her jealous. Now, instead of spending every night with her and Harry as they sat in the common room, finishing their homework and talking, Ron was off with another girl. Hermione wasn't stupid, whatever he might think: she knew they were doing things that made her blood boil. Not necessarily because she…_might_…feel something for him, but that he was neglecting his prefect duties _and_ his assignments just to go off with another Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw or even a Gryffindor and do things. It infuriated her, it really did. But what could she do about it? When Ron came over, as he usually did, to tell Harry and Hermione that he wasn't going to be there that night, Hermione would roll her eyes and sigh as he walked away. Harry and occasionally Ginny would give her knowing looks and then pretend they hadn't noticed anything when she looked up. Goodness, she wasn't _completely_ clueless when it came to boys. Not like Harry, who wouldn't admit that he looked at Ginny when she wasn't looking and would blush…

            A flash of Ron, blushing madly as he told Hermione and Harry about how Parvati Patil had asked him to go to Hogsmeade, shot across Hermione's mind, and she straightened up. A gleam in her eyes shone through, one of conviction and determination. She might feel things for Ron that weren't platonic, but she didn't have to act on them. 

            Not ever.

            She checked her watch and realized, with a start, that she was late for dinner. She'd missed it the past few nights, writing _Hogwarts, A History: Revised_, and Harry had warned her he'd use his Bat Bogey Hex on her if she didn't eat tonight. While she could easily deflect it, she found it endearing that he cared.

            Unlike other people.

            She quickly pushed that thought down in the dark recesses of her brain where she stored all her thoughts about Ron and walked to the Great Hall, staggering slightly under the weight of her bag.

            By the time she walked in, Harry and Ginny had already started eating.

            "Hi," Hermione said, sliding in next to Ginny. "Sorry I'm late, I got sidetracked."

            "You should be glad you remembered, because I've been practicing that Bat Bogey Hex," Harry said, digging into his mashed potatoes. 

            She laughed. 

            "He's getting quite good at it," Ginny remarked thoughtfully. "Of course, I _am_ the one who taught him."

            Harry grinned, rather stupidly, and stared at Ginny for a bit until he realized what he was doing and looked down at his plate again.

            Hermione smiled.

            "Where's Ron?" she asked, hoping she sounded casual. 

            "Dunno," Harry answered with his mouth full. "He's been gone quite a bit, hasn't he?"

            Hermione glanced at Harry and saw his green eyes fill with hurt. This only escalated her anger at Ron for practically deserting them. Harry hadn't many people who truly cared about him, and _Ron_, his best friend, was simply horrible for abandoning him.

            She stood up.

            "I have to go," she said suddenly. "I need to speak to _Mr_. Weasley."

            "Hermione—don't hurt him again," Ginny grinned. "The last time you rowed with him, he nearly had to go to the hospital wing."

            Hermione hardly heard any of this as she stormed out of the Great Hall.

            Things had gone far enough.

            She blasted through the portrait hole and was disgusted but ready for the scene that met her eyes: Ron snogging Parvati Patil on a couch in front of the fire. She swallowed the tears that stung the back of her eyes and marched over to them.

            "_Excuse me_," she said scathingly, in a voice that made the two jump apart and Parvati nervously tuck the front of her shirt down. "But I was wondering if I could have a word with Ron. Alone."

            Parvati left the common room without another word, and Ron's eyes flashed with anger.

            "Hermione, what are you doing?" he asked, as if he were the one who had been wronged. 

            "I think the question is, what are _you_ doing, Ron?" she asked in return. Her anger began to mount, and she could see his face growing red.

            "Well, excuse me, Miss Know-It-All, but I'm not the one butting in on other people's business like you just did," he answered, crossing his arms.

            "And _I'm_ not the one _abandoning _my friends like you've been doing for the past year!" Hermione practically shrieked. All the pent-up anger and frustration she'd been feeling for the past 15 months came flying out of her as she let him have it.

            "Ah, I haven't been _abandoning_ anyone," Ron retorted. "I've actually been getting more social. Sorry if I want more friends than you and Harry."

            Hermione sighed loudly in frustration. "_Honestly_, Ron, you can't tell me that shoving your tongue down someone's throat is a way to make friends."

            "Maybe I want to be known as more than just 'Harry Potter's best friend' to some people, all right?" he asked loudly.

            "I cannot believe that you just said that," Hermione said, her voice suddenly low and quiet. "I cannot believe that you think that's all your friendship with Harry is. I also can't believe that you would throw away your friendship with your best friend because of your damn ego!"

            The surprise at hearing Hermione curse showed in Ron's blue eyes but quickly disappeared. "I never said that. You're the one who's putting words into my mouth."

            "Oh, really, Ron? Because it looks an awful lot to me like you're ditching Harry to snog someone. And it looks like you're not even doing it because you _like_ these girls. It looks like you're doing it to prove something to someone, and I don't know who it is, but they can't possibly be worth it."

            "You have no idea," he said softly.

            "Well, I'd seriously reconsider what you're doing, because you're going to lose Harry over it."

            With that, she spun around and turned to go back to the Great Hall.

            "What about you?"

            The sound of his voice, which had been so strong and powerful a second ago, seemed small and…

            Sad?

            "What _about_ me?"

            "Have I lost you already, Hermione?" Ron asked, taking a step toward her.

            "I…I don't know," she said truthfully. "I guess I know you're not really like this underneath, but you've been doing a horrible job of showing it."

            She really left that time.

            The next few days fell into Hermione's usual routine while at Hogwarts. She woke up, ate breakfast, went through her classes, ate lunch, went to the rest of her classes, studied, ate dinner (occasionally), studied more, went on patrols, and then slept. It was easy not to think about Ron and who was worth all the pain he was putting her and Harry through. 

            Or, at least, that's what she told herself. She tried not to consider telling herself not think about him as thinking about him…about the way his voice sounded when he asked her if he'd lost her already.

            The truth was that she had no idea, for once in her life. She wanted to forget about everything Ron had done, but when he came over once again to tell them that he had plans, or when he stopped doing it after she confronted him, it came rushing back and she couldn't take it. But at the same time, she still looked at him when he wasn't looking at her…probably looking at some other girl, ironically enough.

            It was late on Friday night, and Hermione had just completed her rounds and was coming back to the private room she had gotten as a result of being Head Girl. She sighed and was about to go in when she heard her name.

            "Hermione?" someone said tentatively. She turned around to find Terry Boot, a Ravenclaw, standing there, looking nervous.

            "Hi," she answered.

            "Er…listen…I was wondering if you might like to go to Hogsmeade with me," he stammered out.

            "Oh…" Hermione said. This was certainly unexpected. She opened her mouth, ready to say no, when the image of Ron and Parvati flashed through her mind and changed her answer.

            "I'd love to."

            "Really?" Terry asked eagerly.

            She nodded.

            "All right then…I'll…pick you up at 1 or so?"

            "Sure."

            "Right then…g'night, Hermione."

            She stared after him for a minute, wondering if she had made the wrong decision.

            Saturday dawned fair and clear. Hermione had been up most of the night, fretting about her date with Terry. She knew now she'd done the wrong thing. She'd said yes merely to get back at Ron for snogging Parvati, and she knew it would end up hurting Terry and her in the end. She had had her mind set on telling him, but when she saw him and how happy he was, she couldn't bring herself to say no.

            "Where shall we go to first?" Terry asked as they walked through the town.

            "Er…" she trailed off. She usually went to the bookstore, but she'd also never been here on a date, and it wasn't probably a very romantic thing to do, which unfortunately she thought Terry had in mind.

            "The Three Broomsticks? For a butterbeer?" he asked, already steering her toward the pub (he had his arm firmly around her shoulders).

            She nodded, although it would have been futile to argue, as by the time she finished agreeing, they were inside.

            "Would you like a butterbeer?" he asked politely once they had sat down. She nodded again and off he went.

            Hermione sighed and leaned back into her chair, trying to resist the urge to get up and run out of the place.

            "Hermione?"

            She knew instantly that it was Ron and, though her heartbeat quickened as though upon command, she forced herself to turn around slowly and look completely impassive, as though she couldn't care less as to whether he was there or not.

            "Hello," she said calmly. "Hi, Parvati."

            "Who are you here wi—" but before Ron could finish his question, Terry walked back with two foaming butterbeers.

            Things happened extremely quickly. All Hermione remembered was Ron's fist slamming into Terry's nose and a loud crunch before Terry was on the floor. She didn't even think of seeing if he was all right. She just knew if she stayed any longer, she'd start to cry and look extremely foolish, so she ran out of the Three Broomsticks, out of Hogsmeade, back to Hogwarts and her room.

            "Hermione, come on, open up!" 

            Ron had been banging on Hermione's door all afternoon, but Hermione refused to open it. For one, he had _punched_ her date in the face for _no good reason_, and he had made her look…well, she didn't want to think about it.

            "Hermione, c'mon…I'm…I'm sorry!" he yelled helplessly. "I didn't—I wasn't—"

            "You were a complete and utter _git_, Ronald," she said coldly, hoping that he couldn't tell that she had been crying.

            "'Mione…you've been crying…come on now, open this door, I said I was sorry!"

            "If you insist on calling me anything, please use my actual name, and I was _not_ crying."

            "Yes, you were," he insisted. "Your throat sounds scratchy and your voice sounds stuffy and your eyes are probably all red and puffy, and you think your hair looks horrible and you keep patting it down, but it stays the way it is…and you're trying not to cry right now."

            Hermione sniffed. "Ron…you can't…you can't _do _things like this! You can't _punch_ people for no good reason and then ask me for forgiveness! By all rights, you should be pounding down _Terry's_ door!"  
            "But I don't care about what he thinks of me. I don't love him, do I?"

            "Ron, I don't think you—"

            She stopped. Love who? What? 

            She had to open the door. The suspense was killing her.

            She slowly opened the door and saw Ron. He had his first up in the air, probably ready to pound on her door again. His red hair was messier than usual, and he had blood on his shirt.

            "'Mione," he said hoarsely.

            "What did you just say?" she asked quietly.

            "Hermione, I know…I know I've been a jerk lately. And it's not because I was trying to be more social or make more friends…I mean, I've got the best ones anyone could ask for right here. 

            "I was trying to forget about you."

            "What?"

            "I was trying to forget about the fact that I couldn't have you, that I wasn't good enough for you. And as you can see, it didn't work," he said grimly. "I'm sorry…I'm so, so sorry. I'm not sorry for punching that bloke. That actually felt good. I'm sorry for disappointing you, because that's the absolute last thing that I wanted."

            She stared at him. Even her quick-processing mind couldn't take that much information in such a short time.

            "Ron…"

            "I love you."

            She stumbled, swayed, and nearly fell, but Ron caught her. He held her in his arms and she looked into his eyes, and knew that even with what he'd done, she'd find a way to forgive him. Because he was Ron, and that meant everything. That was worth everything.

            "Hermione, you don't have to say anything. I just…had to tell you."

            "I love you too, you prat," she said, smiling through the tears that had started to fall. 


End file.
